Mafia Desire (Erotica)

Part Two.

Other than hearing from my mother that Amy had arrived safely in Rome, I heard nothing from or about her for the next several days. I hoped she was enjoying herself. As a slap in the face to my joke the night before she left, the house seemed empty and quiet without her. I missed her already. The first couple of days I suspected that she was having the time of her life and was too busy being enthralled with Rome to contact me. Her facebook page seemed to be updating constantly with photos of her and her friends at museums and restaurants. The only hint of anything at about us was that she posted a link to a song I had included on her phone that she proclaimed a new favorite that her friends should hear. That got a half smile out of me.

The morning of the third day, I started to worry that she was being quiet because she regretted what had happened with us. By mid-afternoon, I felt like I was becoming a nervous wreck. I couldn’t bring myself to send her a message. I didn’t want to interrupt her trip. That evening, resolved to clear my head, I went to the bar with John.

Several beers and shots later, I was in better spirits, talking with John about the rapidly approaching show.

“You never have liked being around people that much, dude. But it’s gonna be great. You’ve got talent. It’ll be cool for some of the right people to see that.”

“Meg talked me into it, really. Mostly to piss off that prick that teaches Art 202. She seems to think I’ve got something to prove, but I really don’t.” I took a sip of my beer. “Not that I would mind peeing in his cheerios a bit.”

“See? This is why I prefer my chemistry classes. I just gotta memorize the stuff and puke it out on a test. None of this ego driven shit you gripe about.” John chuckled.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I slipped off the bar stool to get it from my pocket.

“Getting texts at one in the morning? You got some chick begging for it?” John raised his eyebrows at me. “Can’t be Meg, she’s over there.”

He motioned to where I hadn’t noticed Megan was sitting with some other art majors at a corner booth. Her hair was now a violet color. She looked up just as I glanced her direction and smiled at me. I gave her a small smile back, trying to be polite. We hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks, as I’d made up excuses to not go to her apartment the last couple of times I’d been invited.

I looked down at my phone and saw the message was from Amy. “It’s unbelievably beautiful here.”

I exhaled heavily, feeling a giant knot in my stomach begin to unravel. I quickly replied. “You must fit right in.”

Another text arrived. “I was already spending all my time thinking about the night before I left. You aren’t helping. :)” That made me smile.

John looked at me expectantly. “Are you going to tell me who’s texting you or what? They sure cheered you the fuck up in a hurry.”

“It’s my sister. She’s vacationing in Rome and just checking in. Believe me, my life isn’t that interesting, dude.” At least, I sure as hell didn’t want him to know how interesting of a turn it had been taking lately.

“Ah. Damn. I’m disappointed. I thought you were holding out on me.” He laughed and took another hit off of his beer before signaling to the bartender for another. If he only knew, I thought.

I dropped my phone back in my pocket and finished off my beer before heading for the bathroom. My bladder had been sending up warning flairs for a few minutes now.

“Back in a minute.” I commented offhandedly.

The bar was busy that night, and there was a line for the bathrooms. Cursing my luck as I waited in line, my phone vibrated again. I started retrieving it from my pocket, but saw Megan walking toward me. I let the phone slide back down in my pocket. Amy would have to wait a minute. Megan glanced at the pocket my phone was in, but caught herself and tried to hide it.

“Hey stranger,” Megan said, clearly buzzed, as she gave me a quick hug. “Are you ready for the show?”

“Just about ready. At least in terms of having stuff ready to hang. I’ll need about six more beers before I’m ready to deal with the people there.” I chuckled at her.

“Well, you’ve got about a week and half. I’m pretty sure you can drink a six pack in that time.” She leaned a bit closer. “Or, you could come by my place later and I could help you relax.”

“I’d better not tonight, I have to open the store tomorrow.” I replied. It wasn’t entirely true, but I didn’t want to get into that kind of conversation with her tonight.

“That’s too bad. It’s been a while. I’m starting to think you’re avoiding me.” Megan gave me a wink and leaned up on her toes to give me a quick peck on the cheek before heading back to her friends. “Give me a call soon.”

I turned back toward the bathroom and exhaled. I checked my phone again. “I had a lot of time to think on the flight. And I have some regrets.”

I had been thinking I was too drunk for this conversation when I started reading it, but the last sentence sobered me up. A lot. The dark knot threatened to return, but she did seem happy about us just a moment ago. This had to be something different from the capital “R” version of regret, right? I simply replied with “… regrets?”

“Not that kind, sweetheart. I mean the kind that have me over here in my lonely hotel bed this morning, wondering what it would feel like to have your hands on me.” I read the message and tried to restart my heart, pondering where one might buy one of those defibrillation machines. Despite the feelings we clearly shared, it was a mentally jarring experience to consolidate the life long version of my sister with the newly discovered version of my sister who was now flirting with me. Successfully, I should add, considering the twitch I felt in my pants when I read her words.

“Give me a few minutes, I’m checking flight plans.” I responded, wishing it were an actual possibility.

“Don’t tease me like that, dear brother. I’ll get even.”

“Oh? Do tell.” I smirked to myself. A challenge for her. A little of the old sibling rivalry kicked in, I guess. I finished up in the bathroom, which took longer than it should have due to the effect her words had had on my prick, and headed back to the bar, feeling much better about things, and really wishing she were back already so I could show her exactly what she was wondering about.

I noticed Megan doing her flirting routine on a tall guy with glasses and a bun in his hair at the far end of the bar. I caught her clearly watching me out of the corner of her eye. I’d seen this before. She didn’t know who I was texting, but it bothered her and she was trying to get me jealous by hitting on someone else. Like I said before, she could be emotionally draining. Possessive, but unwilling to commit to anything herself. I’d worked this out long ago and was not going to wander along with her, bathing in the wake of destruction she would unleash on my emotions if I gave her half a chance. But, power plays aside, she was a nice person. Just a bit damaged. One of those people whose company you enjoyed, as long as you kept a certain amount of distance between you. If you let yourself get sucked in, you’d wind up with an ulcer and most likely an alcohol problem. I headed back to my bar stool and ordered another beer.

“Jesus, dude.” John nodded toward Megan, “a man bun? Really?”Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

I started chuckling, finding it more amusing than I probably should have.

“You didn’t tell her that was your sister messaging you, did you?” He smirked.

“Nope. More fun to watch her squirm.” I laughed. “Does her good to get a taste of her own shit once in a while.”

“You are a mischievous little cunt, you know that, sir?” Then he added. “I knew we got along for a reason.”

That got a good laugh out of me. Damn, I was drunk. I glanced out of the corner of my eye and saw Megan nibbling on man-bun’s neck. She was my friend, and I cared about her in as far as that went, but her attempts to make me jealous were in vain. She wasn’t who I wanted anymore. If I ever had wanted her to begin with, that is. There had long been a time, early in our friendship, when I thought I did. I was going to have to have a talk with her eventually that I wasn’t looking forward to.

I took another swig of my beer when my phone vibrated again. I glanced down at it and raised an eyebrow. It was an image file. I opened the message and the photo was of a hand, a small, pale hand with long delicate fingers extended toward the ceiling in a beautiful hotel room. I noticed the fingertips were wet and a line of clear fluid dripped down from a couple of them. The photo was captioned “thinking of you.”

I nearly shot beer out of my nose as I choked. I grabbed a napkin off of the counter to wipe my face, coughing the whole time. John gave me a befuddled look and I made a weak excuse of having swallowed my beer wrong. After a few more minutes and several attempts to come up with a witty reply that I decided to delete instead, I texted back “Jesus, you play dirty.”

“Oh, you have no idea… ;)”